Redemption
by Folle
Summary: I'm not who I used to be. Her words were small and solid. . . [vague postwar zutara]
1. Chapter 1

**Redemption**

* * *

_Prologue: _

_« Si on juge de l'amour par la plupart de ses effets, il ressemble plus à la haine qu'à l'amitié. »_

_- François de la Rochefoucauld_

Rough translation: "If one judges love by the majority of its effects, it resembles hate more than it does friendship."

* * *

"I'm not who I used to be." Her words were small and solid, like stones dropped into pond. But still he shook his head. 

"Everyone changes." His words were large and hollow and she was suddenly consumed with the need to fill them up. The curtains ruffled in a breeze that brought the subtle scent of the sakura blossoms with it. Her thoughts drifted to the upcoming festival and she reveled in the essence of the sakura. To her they smelled so wonderfully clean and fresh and right all at once. One glance at him, however, and she was sure he couldn't smell them. "Uncle's changed." He paused. "I'm not the same person either." His words gained substance.

"No, you're not." She quickly agreed. He stared at her answer, surprised she wasn't surprised by his confession. She smiled hesitantly, then resolutely. She was reminded of a brief moment in a cave, except she knew this time was different. He'd made a different choice—a better one. But it was still absurd. Here they were, with past, present, and future meeting up in a single moment to decide the value of them all and he was surprised she wasn't surprised. Of course she wasn't surprised. This. . . what could she call it? This _thing _existed for moments like this and this alone. Did he never think of these things? Then she remembered he didn't smell the sakura blossoms. "Come on, don't look at me like that." She wanted to reassure him. Even if he didn't realize it, he had a long way to go before he would be ready to follow in Uncle's footsteps. She wasn't even sure if he realized that that was still his destiny, his honor, just as much as hers was to help him fulfill it. "Change is for the better. This is something you wanted, just not in this way." He cocked his head quizzically.

"What do you mean?" His words were almost full.

"I'm saying the things we want don't always come the way we want them to but they still come." Underneath her words resonated the words of a fortune-teller, but they melted away before she knew they were there. The slight breeze grew a little stronger and the smell of the sakura blossoms flooded her nose. He put his hands on the window sill.

"What is that? Do you smell that?" Her eyes sparkled and she wanted to laugh because his words could now sink like lead. Instead she grinned.

"It's the sakura blossoms."


	2. Chapter 2

_Water is taught by thirst_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

Before the Avatar had dropped into her life, she had never known anything other than snow and ice, midnight suns and endless dark, and the crystalline sheen of her frozen home. Now she knew all there was to know: she had been everywhere, seen the jungles and swamps and deserts and islands, snow-capped peaks and tropical flowers. 

And she knew, somewhere deep inside, that the snow and ice would never be enough again.

* * *

Aang had needed a rest, desperately. That was why they stopped to see Uncle, the Fire Lord. And to see _him_ as well. Aang had been cheery enough, but when he left them unceremoniously to "find himself for a few days" she knew her brother was annoyed. Annoyed to be _there_, even after the War was long over. And even though the War was long over, it wasn't. Residual hatred seemed to have seeped into the ground over those 100 years, growing up in the plants and poisoning the people who ate them. Yet they fought it, tried so emphatically to let the peace remove the vestiges of wrath and pain and fire-scarred memories. It was just too difficult to happen in a day or even a generation. That was why Aang still needed them with him, why they still traveled the world together. Only now they weren't really children anymore. Aang was no longer a young monk training to be the Avatar. He _was_ the Avatar. Katara and Sokka were no longer children from the Water Tribe hoping against hope to protect the world's Hope even as they helped him fulfill his destiny. They were well-respected Water Tribe diplomats and accomplished warriors. Toph was no longer a rich runaway. She had morphed into a powerful and influential Earth Kingdom citizen who had been invited to sit on International Councils at the Avatar's behest. 

So there was nothing unnatural about them, the three political bastions that they had become, staying in the heart of the Fire Nation capital as guests of the Fire Lord himself. What was unnatural, however, was the confused sullenness emanating from the Fire Lord's nephew caused by their presence. He had chased them around the world, fought against them, with them, and finally, in the end, for them. Sokka tried to pretend none of it mattered. To Toph none of it did really matter. Katara, in whom Aang confided more than anyone else, wanted to reach out to him because she knew, from Aang that there was goodness in him but he didn't know how to let it show. His experiences had tangled his insides, twisted his own view of himself until he couldn't possibly understand what he really needed or wanted or deserved. Seeing him stand in Uncle's shadow as he did showed Katara more than anything else that he was still reeling from his own decision to betray his uncle. This and what Aang had told her. And Aang's request. _"He needs a friend, Katara. Try to look past the past."_ And so Katara would try. For Aang. For peace. For _him_.


	3. Chapter 3

_My river runs to thee:  
Blue sea wilt welcome me?_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

He didn't know why, but after the first time they stopped by on their travels, she always tried to talk to him. But he couldn't talk to her. He wouldn't talk to her. It was too painful. Her good nature eternally reminded him of that cave which only served to remind him of his actions that night, none of which he ever wished to recall. His uncle, of course, had forgiven his weakness, even going so far as to have him restored as the crown prince. Yet he felt more like an imposter than the crown prince. He didn't think he could ever replace his cousin and in a way he viewed it the way his father had taken the throne from his brother. Dishonest. But there was no way to rectify the situation. He couldn't bring his cousin back from the dead and his uncle's life was too far spent to spend time searching for a bride and hoping for another heir. Besides that, Uncle didn't seem to want another heir. And that would have been enough for Zuko if not for his own doubts and lack of self-acceptance. The past had taught him to fear himself and the blood he had inherited. 

But it was as if she didn't care about any of that. Perhaps she didn't know, didn't realize. And then he knew that she knew, but the peace was more important, happiness was more important, forgiveness was more important. And so he looked forward to their impromptu and unannounced visits, even if he still refused to look at her sometimes, speaking bare threads of words his uncle glared out of him. What mattered was that she represented a realistic hope that change was coming. So he watched her from the corner of his eye. What he was looking for he wasn't really sure, but he couldn't look away.


	4. Chapter 4

_If I can stop one heart from breaking,  
I shall not live in vain_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

Leaving them there had been necessary, no matter how Sokka complained. They didn't realize, but he knew. He knew what he was doing. He knew the possibilities. He knew a "few days" would stretch into something much more. And he knew what he had asked of her though she did not. He remembered it clearly. 

_"Aang, are you sure? He's so. . . dangerous."_

_"Not anymore, he just doesn't realize it and he doesn't hear his uncle. He needs a friend, Katara. Try to look past the past." _

What had she meant by dangerous? The same kind of dangerous that Katara was to himself? He didn't want to think about it, didn't want to know. The thousand lives inside him were enough to tell him he was doing the right thing. If only to do penance for the 100 years he had left the world to fend for itself he would make the sacrifice peace required of him. His thousand lives burned with shame to remember his cowardice. But they understood. It was what each had wanted to do. So it was their penance too. With a thousand voices to support him he hoped to rise above selfish desires of the past to take his place as the soul of all the earth.

As the sun reached its zenith he closed his eyes to begin gathering the strength he knew he would need when he returned. Then he was lost to the world of the living.


	5. Chapter 5

_To lose one's faith surpasses  
The loss of an estate,  
Because states can be  
Replenished,-- faith cannot_.

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

At the moment he realized the kingdom that was to be his wasn't, he couldn't remember how he had felt. Relief? Perhaps to a degree, but dread of the new Lord overcame whatever else there might have been. The only smidgen of hope throughout it all was the Lord's son. His nephew.

His nephew, so broken and lost, angry and bitter and confused. The audacity of the boy's father to taint him so! All of the balm Iroh held inside didn't seem to rid the boy of the dregs his father had left him with. How grateful he was the Avatar, the guardian of the whole earth and all its inhabitants, had found another healer with more potent medicine than he possessed.

He couldn't deny the mature words of the young Avatar had surprised him, especially considering the Avatar's own feelings that he had been unable to hide from the old man. And even as the Avatar had given him hope he had tried to give it back.

_"It may not work. We cannot force it upon them."_

_"I know. But I want you to give them every chance, even if they don't know."_

He smiled with only a small twinge of sadness. He regretted not offering the Avatar some tea before he left, but tried to forget the solemn grey eyes as he strolled away to give _them_ a chance.


	6. Chapter 6

_The last night that she lived,  
It was a common night_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

Hot and smoky vapors draped themselves over the battlefield as men struggled to live and not fall. The summer night was sticky with humidity and sweat and fear. Thousands of days and last wishes meshed into the oppressive atmosphere, reeking of the underlying terror of what had happened. 

But it was over. His father was dead. His sister was dead. The two facts seared small holes in his heart as he realized that now he was the last of his family. He wanted to sink to his knees before he remembered his uncle. _Uncle_. The only person to stay by his side, even when Zuko pushed him away in favor of a father whose love he would never gain and a sister who was always ready to strike from behind. As he wavered on his feet he promised himself he would somehow make up for the horrible mistake he had made no matter what the cost. Then he gave in and sank to the ground as his thoughts faded away.


	7. Chapter 7

_It burned me in the night,  
It blistered in my dream_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

The disgust she felt for the whisperings amongst the palace servants, whisperings that had given her the curiosity and courage to seek out the Fire Lord, were nothing compared to the horror that enveloped her mind when Iroh gave her the full story. It was a shocking contrast to her own father who was always warm and loving, who cared more about his children than his own life. Iroh had given her the barest details but they were enough to know why Zuko turned away, why he scowled constantly, why he couldn't forget and why he wouldn't forgive. 

The nights after were filled with visions of how she supposed it had happened, visions that soon caused her to dread her pillow and the setting sun. She resorted to taking solace in the moon, sneaking away from the closed doors and the sleepy sounds behind them. She used the cool waters to wash away the sorrow that kept her up, but she still couldn't sleep.

And while she wondered how _he_ must have felt, the object of her unlimited pity appeared.


	8. Chapter 8

_Here I am  
lost in the light of the moon_

-_Afterglow_, INXS

* * *

While he wasn't happy to discover he wasn't the only person with insomnia he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. It was as if knowing that someone else's thoughts or dreams or_ nightmares_ were also inescapable made the fact that his were a little more normal. And being normal was something he was afraid he'd lost sight of.

But when she realized he was there and turned towards him, he saw it all in her eyes. It was there when she lifted a hand to stifle a gasp. Someone had told her, had told her the whole thing. He felt his insides burn, and for a moment he thought he would run away back to his cold bed and incessant nightmares. Instead he accosted her with words.

"What are you doing here?"

"I. . . I couldn't sleep." She seemed to struggle voicing her thoughts and her eyes were glossy in the moonlight. And then he knew why she couldn't sleep, just as she now knew that he didn't sleep. He was silent and sullen and began to turn away when she spoke again.

"I meant it."

"What?"

"When I said I would try to heal it. In the cave. I could still try. . ." He finished turning away, leaving her offer at his back and shook his head. Before she offered anything else he left, wondering how he had refused, _why_ he had refused. And he knew, back behind him, she probably understood why more than he.


	9. Chapter 9

_And place was where the presence was,  
Circumference between._

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

He could feel the extra glow in his eyes as surely as he could feel their thousands lives humming under his skin. He hoped he had been gone long enough—long enough for them and long enough for him. But it was time for him to return. There was still so much work to do and he could put it off no longer.

They greeted him with friendly smiles and warm countenances that gave him peace, but he could see they could see the unearthly light radiating through his being. Silent agreement was made instantly that talking about it was out of the question as they all tried to slide their curiosity and awe away from their eyes.

There were two faces, however, in which he was most interested. He noticed he wasn't the only one who had changed. The Fire prince, affecting resolute stoicism, still could be caught watching a certain young woman from the corner of his eye. He was cautious, still afraid to give it all over. Thoughts begin to plague Aang with curiosity as he wondered the extent of it all, but he silently pleaded for ignorance and was granted half as much. For the moment it sustained him.

He felt a strange mix of empathetic pity that with his return he would be taking her away, away from _him_, and the tentative beginning that was just forming for them. He justified his actions by knowing they would return, and by knowing he was sacrificing more than Zuko would ever know.


	10. Chapter 10

_One need not be a chamber to be haunted_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

"My nephew, why did you not bid farewell to your friends?"

The Fire Lord posed the question to his heir in hopes of making him face what he felt, but Iroh hardly believed he would succeed. Besides that, he was truly curious. Zuko did not answer, as his uncle had expected. What his uncle did not expect, however, was the question he nephew posed in return.

"Uncle, why do you trust me?" Iroh disliked his nephew's insinuation so he tried to reassure him.

"I _do_ trust you."

"Yes, Uncle, I _know_. But I need to know _why_." Iroh sighed.

"Why do we trust the sun will rise in the morning? Because it always does. Why do we trust that the Avatar will be reborn in a new cycle? Because he always is. There are some things in our lives we do not question simply because they are what they are."

"But…I betrayed you…" With this comment Iroh's patient demeanor was replaced with unrelenting sterness. Iroh would help Zuko understand if it took the rest of his life.

"Zuko. That time in your life is over. You must let it go, so you can trust yourself." The bitterness and self-loathing remained in Zuko's eyes. The Fire Lord turned to leave his nephew with his words. Before he had made a complete exit, however, he heard quiet words that stuck his feet to the floor.

"That's why I didn't say goodbye. She shouldn't trust me."


	11. Chapter 11

"_Creativity often results from knowing the rules and then artfully violating them."_

* * *

Sokka had always told her not to trust the Fire Nation or anything from it—its trade goods, traditions, or people. Even now that the war was over Sokka was still suspicious. And she couldn't blame him; there were many people like him. He tried not to bring it up or voice his opinions, but sometimes it couldn't be helped.

"Katara, I don't think you should be so excited to visit the Fire Nation." Katara knew what he was trying to say, but decided if he wouldn't bring it up then neither would she.

"Why not Sokka? We haven't seen Iroh or Zuko for a few months now."

"That's exactly my point. Why are you always so excited to see them?"

"They're our friends, Sokka."

"They're from the Fire Nation."

"The war's over. They're trying to be peaceful."

"Katara. Listen to me. Zuko's dangerous, okay?" Katara smiled wryly. Finally Sokka said what he meant. She looked Sokka in the eye to let him know she was serious even though she was still smiling.

"Aang told me he wasn't." She could tell Sokka wanted to scoff, to dismiss the young man easily but that blue glow…he wouldn't be easily dismissed. As her brother's rebuttal died on his lips she added her own testimony to the Avatar's.

"I don't think he's dangerous either."


	12. Chapter 12

_More than ever  
I need to feel you_

-_Waiting Game_, Yellowcard

* * *

The summer sun waned; soon a cooler season would arrive bringing with it the rains and torrents of the wet season. Maybe the cooler weather would bring _them_ back too…And if they came _she_ would be with them. Their last visit had been in the spring, during the cherry blossom festival. They had stayed longer that time, longer than necessary. It had not been long enough for him. The sun slipped beneath the horizon and he resolved to be patient.

So the next day when they seemed to materialize from the air (it was _almost_ like that) he would have thought it was a dream, but his dreams were never pleasant. Then he remembered waking up and knew it wasn't a dream. Sokka glared at him incessantly and the Avatar's recently acquired glow seemed to flash brightly for just a moment. But she was smiling so he smiled too. A real smile—his first in a very long time.


	13. Chapter 13

_I wait for silence here  
wait for things to disappear_

-_Waiting Game_, Yellowcard

* * *

His nephew was more relaxed than he had been in many years (that first smile had not been the last), but he was still his nephew.

"Don't you think I'm too young, Uncle?"

"Perhaps. In a way none of us is ever ready."

"Then I don't understand why we are discussing this."

"Think of it. It is easier for a prince to marry than for a king to marry because the king is _king_. Marrying before you are Fire Lord will reduce the stress—a new office _and_ a new bride could be overwhelming." Iroh did not mention the event that would lead to his nephew's ascension to the throne.

"I will not be Fire Lord for a very long time." Iroh's laughter bellowed out from his belly and filled the nearly empty council room.

"Thank you for your vote of confidence, my nephew, but I would like to have everything arranged _before_ then, just in case."


	14. Chapter 14

_The lightning was as new  
As if the cloud that instant slit  
And let the fire through_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

Instead of finding rest he had found trouble. He wanted to race back to the South Pole and gather his friends for battle, but he knew this kind of trouble couldn't be solved by such conventional methods. Instead he went straight to the Fire Nation.

Being the Avatar had its privileges and that included receiving an audience with the Fire Lord whenever he wanted.

"Avatar, I was not expecting you so soon. Did you find what you were looking for?" Aang wanted to laugh. He seemed to be "looking" for something quite often these days. He had a feeling he would continue to do so, so he didn't laugh.

"Lord Iroh, have you chosen a wife for Prince Zuko yet?" Iroh's wide eyes betrayed his surprise.

"I have only begun discussing the idea with him, but we have made no decisions." Aang nodded to himself. Then he looked at the Fire Lord firmly.

"I want him to marry Katara." Iroh did not reply. Aang didn't want to tell him, but he realized it was necessary to make himself understood. _The sacrifices kept coming._ He looked away from the Fire Lord and began speaking in a tone that knew the reverence, awe, and fear of the Spirit World many times over.

"I had…I had a vision. It was about your…death. Zuko will not be able to rule competently afterwards." Remembered images of anarchy and despotism crowded behind Aang's eyes. He would have no more war, so he took a deep breath and continued. "When Zuko is Fire Lord he will _be_ the Fire Nation—they will be connected, like I am to the Earth. If Zuko is…broken the country will follow. For the stability of the country and the world, I will not allow this to happen." Iroh's golden eyes were filled with compassion.

"Aang…are you sure?"

"Katara is the greatest healer the world has ever known and as the Avatar it's my duty to preserve the peace." After a moment he turned his eyes to the Fire Lord, not wanting to say what he knew he should. "I failed once because I wouldn't do what I could have. I won't let it happen again." Iroh nodded slowly.

"As you wish, Avatar. How soon should I arrange it? I will make the proper overtures to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe." Aang shook his head emphatically.

"I will be traveling there myself. I want to discuss it with Chief Hakoda and his…daughter personally. I will let you know what to do next."

"What should I tell Zuko?"

"Is he ready?"

"Perhaps."

"Then I will leave it up to your judgement."


	15. Chapter 15

_Or Artic creature, dimly stirred  
By tropic hint_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

"What?!"

She hardly knew what to say. They were just beginning to be friends. Even though Aang's face was in shadow, she could see what looked like dark smudges under his eyes. She turned back to her father.

"You already agreed to this?"

"No. You may choose, Katara, and I will respect your choice. You have earned that right." She looked to Aang. She said the first thing that came to her mind.

"His people will not accept me." Aang shook his head and shifted into the moonlight.

"Yes they will. No one is having a harder time forgiving the Fire Nation than the Fire Nation. They will welcome change as a new beginning, somewhere they can start over and prove their commitment to peace." Katara wanted to continue arguing, but Aang's _blueness_ was almost pulsing. Then, right before her very eyes he became the Avatar with no trace of Aang left.

"I'm not asking this of you as a friend. I'm asking as the Avatar." Then all his edges softened and the pulsing stopped and he became the little boy who had lost his family, his home, his nation. "_Please_ Katara. No more war." She wasn't sure what exactly this had to do with war, but it was obvious he did.

"What did Zuko say about this?"

"I wanted to tell you first. I only spoke with Lord Iroh. I don't know if he's told Prince Zuko or not." Then Aang gave her a peace offering. "I will not force anyone into a marriage. I only ask that you try. I can take you to the Palace for the betrothal ceremony, and you can be engaged for however much time you need to make it work or to know that it will not work. If you decide against the marriage after any amount of time, we will break the engagement. Zuko is only Prince; it will not be too difficult. Lord Iroh will agree to whatever I say about it." Katara didn't want to speak; she only nodded. The pure white snow at her feet danced in her peripheral vision. She looked from Aang to her father, then choked back her tears.

"Let me tell Sokka, okay?"


	16. Chapter 16

_Love reckons by itself alone,_  
"_As large as I" relate the Sun  
To one who never felt its blaze,  
Itself is all the like it has_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

He was so nervous, so nervous. Uncle had done his best. Nothing could have mediated his shock. At the behest of the _Avatar_? Her best friend who clearly had had feelings for her for a very long time? He didn't understand it. Uncle hadn't explained why, just what. And then they came.

He hadn't seen her once since she'd been there, and the betrothal ceremony was the next day. He knew he was the reason he hadn't seen her. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to tell her he wanted this more than anything he'd ever wanted (he didn't even know that), but most of all he didn't know why she was agreeing to it.

It was that part of the night when the sun begins to think about rising. He left to find her, finally, and he knew she would be where he'd seen her that first time, when he knew she knew. It was a place of honesty. She didn't say anything, but he knew she knew he was there because she gave him a sidelong glance. He tried to find words and failed, so she spoke first.

"I froze a boy to a tree once."

"Why?" She turned to face him straight on. She looked him in the eye.

"Because he lied to me. You can never lie to me." She stared at him, almost vehemently. Suddenly he knew that he never could—never would—so he told her.

"I won't."

The sun rose amidst the ensuing silence.


	17. Chapter 17

_The brook laughs louder when I come_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

There was no doubt the people of the Fire Nation had been surprised, but as the months passed by they accepted her without trepidation. In fact she came to be revered—for her close association with the Avatar and her role in ushering the present era of peace. How the Fire citizens had longed for peace during 100 years of war was a secret they kept well (their fierce pride and fiery natures had given them little motive to divulge it). Katara was a symbol of this peace, engaged to their Crown Prince and thus to them. And when it became apparent that Zuko drank in her presence like desert land soaks up rain, they embraced her as their own, as a healer of land and people and the heart.

Consequently the people almost mourned when she had to leave, if only for a few weeks. However, there was one who mourned more than they. He loved her as much as the people, but not only for the things that had made her a symbol in their eyes. He loved her easy smile, so different from his own, her unconscious rapport with the courtiers, her uncanny understanding of Uncle's passion for tea, and the way she looked at water like it was a living part of her. Most of all he loved the way she made him feel about himself—like he was capable of more than he thought he was.

"Lady Katara, please send our condolences to Chief Hakoda and your brother. Your grandmother will be sorely missed." Katara graciously took Lord Iroh's words and tucked them in the back of her heart. Then the Fire Lord backed away subtly to give her a moment alone with her fiancé.

She didn't say anything. He didn't say anything. She put a hand on his scarred cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch. He covered her hand with his own. She let her hand be for a moment. When she tried to remove it his eyes flashed open. He clung to her hand. A dam inside her broke and she understood why Aang had asked her to do this, why she _wanted_ to do this, why she would return as soon as she could.

She sailed away and he thought of words spoken under a cherry tree so long ago. She had been right. Life was changing for the better.


	18. Chapter 18

_Each that we lose takes part of us;  
A crescent still abides,  
Which like the moon, some turbid night,  
Is summoned by the tides _

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

Gran-gran's funeral had been everything a Water Tribe funeral should have been and more. The heaviness Katara carried at not being there when she died was slightly alleviated. Her grandmother had stalwartly supported her decision about the Fire Nation. Katara thought maybe she understood—much earlier than Katara had herself. She missed her grandmother the most when Sokka's hard words bit into her soft feelings.

"Tell me Katara. Tell me why you have to go back." Sokka was angry, angrier than she had ever seen him. She hadn't been able to explain before. She hadn't known before, like she knew now, but she still didn't know if she could explain.

"You know Aang asked me to do this."

"And it's killing him. When was the last time you saw him?"

"It's been a long time. He said he would be in the Eastern Air Temple for a few weeks."

"He hasn't come back yet."

"I know."

"Don't you care?"

"Of course I do. So does he. That's why he asked me." How could she make Sokka understand?

"Sokka, he…he _needs_ me." She searched her brother's eyes, trying to find out what he was really asking. She didn't wait for Sokka to utter _"I need you too"_ before she embraced him; she already knew.


	19. Chapter 19

_Given that what I see  
when I dream  
hurts like hell and back  
-Waiting Game_, Yellowcard

* * *

Summer winds swept along the terrain in that carefree, playful way that belongs to summer. Aang didn't notice them. His attention was focused solely on the face that had awakened him from 100 years of slumber.

"Aang, I'm worried about you." And she was. He could practically see the concern seeping from her pores. He suddenly felt his age, the timelessness of his spirit, and the hollows under his eyes. He also felt _them_. He couldn't answer so Katara kept talking.

"I know you asked me to do this…" Aang intervened before she could say it.

"I know I did." His gaze rested on the horizon, trying to see the wind. Then he looked at her with desperate curiosity.

"Will you go through with it?" Her immediate response was the tiniest of smiles and a twinkle in her eye he knew she didn't know was there. Finally he felt peace, _forgiveness,_ for 100 years of blood. His own feelings, he was sure, were subsiding. Everything was unraveling and becoming whole and he knew it was the end of his sleepless nights.


	20. Chapter 20

_« L'absence diminue les médiocres passions et augmente les grandes, comme le vent éteint les bougies et allume le feu. »_

-François de La Rouchefoucauld

Rough translation: A lesser passion is extinguished by absence while a greater is heightened just as the wind blows out candles but fans flames.

* * *

While she was gone his feelings gaped open and spilled their contents everywhere. His sleeplessness returned and he felt like a child instead of his twenty-one years. He was angry with himself, with her, with the world, but he knew what it meant. He felt Uncle wanted to say _finally_, but Uncle really had changed. He said not one word to his heir, except perhaps to try and be of some comfort, but it just wasn't enough. Every morning he watched the sun rise from the palace steps while he waited. Until the sunrise that brought the blue Water craft.

He struggled to maintain some semblance of control during a continuous stream of formalities. He couldn't think straight. He wanted to apologize for not taking better care of himself when he noticed her eyes lingered on the dark circles under his eyes. He wanted to yell at her for not being there to take care of him. And then he was unsure if what was happening was real or a fleeting, whimsical thought that persisted. He wanted so many things simultaneously that when things suddenly ended and they were left alone on a veranda, he didn't know what to do.

The space between them spanned the length of unsaid words. The stillness was interrupted as breezes off the sea swept the veranda clean of the echoing utterances of those who had just left. He was surprised to see the sun falling in the sky when he had just seen it rise. She was watching the sunset with her arms wrapped around herself. He slinked towards her, weary and cautious and spent before throwing his scattered thoughts into the breeze. She started to turn as he approached her but no words were exchanged because he squeezed her tightly, so tightly he couldn't breathe. Then he realized she was returning the embrace. His scattered thoughts returned and he let go, still standing close. She didn't let go, but she looked at his face.

"I missed you…" Her words kept him standing motionless. She frowned.

"I think next time I'll have to take you with me." Then she laughed, the sound reverberating through his chest because she was still so close. Frustrated with his speechlessness, he hugged her again, almost feeling numb. She laughed again, let go of his middle and cupped his face with her hands. Then she kissed him and he could feel again. He could feel her smile, could feel she really had missed him, could feel she wouldn't leave him again. He almost collapsed with relief and exhaustion but she was leading him away by the hand.


	21. Chapter 21

_Here am I  
lost in the ashes of time  
but who wants tomorrow_

-_Afterglow_, INXS

* * *

His sister. His playmate when they were young. His comrade at arms. His idea bouncer. His fellow ambassador. His friend. 

How she had wanted to go back—it was almost incomprehensible. He remembered her emotion soaked words what seemed like forever ago.

"_I told him I would do it."_

"_What?! You don't have to. No one can make you. Not even Aang."_

"_He's not making me…it's my decision."_

Sokka had felt incredulous that he had asked it of her—and his _father_? He fought with himself for so long over his father's acceptance of his sister's acceptance. When she told him she had agreed, he felt panic, like she had been trapped.

On the long boat ride there the panic threatened to rise again. His sister was a woman, not a child. Of course she was making her own decisions, decisions he couldn't control or hinder. He desperately tried to understand but felt like he was fumbling in the dark.

After their arrival, amid the preparations and councils and stiffness of royalty, his father seemed to have gained peace through the Fire Lord, whose private musings Sokka had not been privy to. Aang was mostly silent, distant, preoccupied. He had never been bluer (in the truest sense of the word). And his sister…she was preoccupied with _him_.

He watched them from afar. She was so calm, _so calm_ on the eve of her wedding. The Fire Lord's heir Sokka would never characterize as calm. But he did seem different. The way Zuko watched his sister…he felt no panic and was startled with himself. Then her laughter rang out in pure tones of happiness. Sokka focused on it—hard—before deciding his sister's happiness was worth anything in the world.


	22. Chapter 22

_We learn in the retreating  
How vast an one  
Was recently among us.  
A perished sun_

-Emily Dickinson

* * *

Katara slumped to the floor, remembering a pair of steel grey eyes that had always been so hopeful, so full of faith, even to the very end. She hoped it was not yet the end for the amber eyes that had been closed for several days in the room behind her. _Two old men_…though only one had seemed old. However, she would have been hard-pressed if someone had asked her which one. She held on to hope as the door slid open beside her.

"He's gone." Zuko looked empty and Katara wondered if she had been right to wait outside the door while her husband watched his uncle pass on. She stood and tried to hold his gaze, sensing the anguish he felt but couldn't express while small droplets slid off her face to splash on the marble below. She turned to two guards standing sentry oh-so-close but just far enough away and dismissed them with a gentle flick of her wrist. When they left she stepped forward and embraced him, clinging to him because he was trembling.

"I can't do this…" His whispered words found their way through her hair into her ears and then to her heart.

"Yes you can. He believed in you. I believe in you. This is your destiny, Zuko."

"I don't want it." Katara's cheek became damp with tears that were not hers. She kissed his cheek, looking for the right words to say.

"His words and his dreams and his faith, they've helped you become who you are. In a way you're a part of him and he's a part of you." She pressed a palm to his chest. "He'll always be here." His quivering quieted, but her cheek remained wet. She moved away slightly to look straight into his eyes. "Because of you, he'll be here when our child comes."

"What child?" Katara saw desperate hope behind his eyes and knew everything would be okay. Because of his uncle, Zuko would make a much better father than his own had been. She took one of _his_ palms and placed it on her abdomen.

"Here."


	23. Chapter 23

_Epilogue: _

_« Si on juge de l'amour par la plupart de ses effets, il ressemble plus à la haine qu'à l'amitié. »_

_- François de la Rochefoucauld_

_Rough translation: "If one judges love by the majority of its effects, it resembles hate more than it does friendship."_

* * *

Aang woke to the pitter patter of rain drops on his face and opened his eyes to see a slate grey sky misty with rain. He heard vague snoring from the tent where Sokka and Katara were no doubt sleeping peacefully, sheltered from the rain. There were no noises from Toph's earth tent, but he reasoned it was because he couldn't hear them through her walls and not because there weren't any. 

His thoughts drifted back to the dream he'd had and suddenly it was like an epiphany. Scattered snippets exploded in his head as he recalled the future he had seen. They were out of order now, dimmed by consciousness. He closed his eyes to trawl the edges of his mind, wondering if what he had seen was prophecy.

These kinds of dreams were becoming more frequent as the summer solstice approached, but they had always been of the past, never of events yet to come. He most often dreamed of his failed attempt to take control of the Avatar state and the dire consequences he had almost suffered. Never, never, never had he dreamed of a future where the war had been over, where peace was a possibility.

He puzzled over the things he had seen, confused by the common theme. Zuko. Katara. Only a few short weeks ago _he_ had betrayed the world for something Aang thought he would never get, betrayed the world with someone who had tried to kill it (he knew now he was the world). The Zuko in his dream had seemed to regret his actions to a fault, to have caved inside himself like a plant denied water. Aang recalled all too well the representative of water his dream self had given Zuko. The words Zuko had whispered only in a dream returned with force…_What child_…what child indeed. Although he had not seen the child, Aang knew that child…almost like he knew himself. He was abruptly overwhelmed with the need to know if what he had seen was the truth, the future as it would be.

He closed his eyes once again, concentrating until the beat of his heart slowed to match the gentle pattern the rain was leaving over the earth. Gradually he saw time was a circle—no beginning and no end. The past was the future and the present a mix of the two with all three melded together to make Time one. Time fell on Aang's face, a part of the rain, and seeped into the waiting ground while he realized his dreams showed what had already happened, what was still happening, and what would happen again. His visions were patchworks of past and present and future swirled together until they were an ultimate mysterious truth he didn't have to power to question, although he knew from his dreams he someday would in a way he could never imagine.

He drifted away again, not allowing the wetness of Time to deter his dreams.


End file.
